


How Will I Know

by emmawantsawarbler



Category: Glee
Genre: Blaine Anderson is Nightbird, M/M, Secret Identity, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:26:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5971882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmawantsawarbler/pseuds/emmawantsawarbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt may or may not take some drastic measures. Blaine may or may not have to be honest. Sam may or may not give some advice. Meanwhile Nightbird just really likes saving people. - nightbird au, two parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It shouldn’t bother Kurt. And it doesn’t bother Kurt. He knows that Blaine has the graveyard shift at his job, but it’s only because he wants the best for Kurt. So Kurt being bothered by it is just him being selfish, but when it’s been three weeks without more than three nights together, he knows it’s time for an intervention.

* * *

 

He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, inspecting the smooth planes of his boyfriend’s face, arms crossed, back cooled by the granite. Blaine looks up, amber eyes warm and wide. “Do you want to go out for dinner sometime soon? Maybe in a day or two? Hopefully tomorrow?”

Kurt knows he’ll sound rude when he answers, but he has to. “Only if you promise to stay.”

A look of confusion crosses Blaine’s face, and his nose scrunches up. “If I promise to stay?”

“It’s been three weeks, Blaine,” Kurt sighs, rolling his eyes. “Three weeks without …,” he hesitates because he doesn’t want to sound needy, but then he repeats the words in his head and knows he just has to say it; they might be older, but Blaine can still be entirely clueless about what Kurt wants, “sex. Not even that. Forget about that. It’s been three weeks without any late night cuddling as some sappy musical plays on the TV. Three weeks without waking up next to you and being filled with nothing but love. Three weeks without knowing you’re here to stay.”

Blaine’s eyebrows raise, and his mouth opens up in an ‘o’. “I’m sorry,” he stutters, honey eyes wide, but then his apologetic expression deepens, “but, Kurt, you know I’m busy. I’m really sorry.” He takes a careful step towards Kurt, “I love you,” on his lips, but Kurt holds up his hand.

“Make your job take a break, or that’s what we’ll do instead,” and Kurt knows, he knows, it’s a bit much, a bit too dramatic, but he knows that sometimes being dramatic is the only way to get Blaine to understand.

There’s a shocked silence before Blaine’s unreasonably endearing, triangular eyebrows are scrunching together, and his forehead is creased. His gaze is directed at the ground. “I didn’t know you felt … I didn’t know you feel that way.” When he looks up at Kurt, it’s the perfect picture of someone miserable.

Kurt sighs, this time out of sympathy, before reaching out a hand to rub his boyfriend’s arm. “Honey, I love you, but it’s getting out of hand.”

Blaine still looks miserable.

* * *

It’s not that he wants to leave Kurt like that, but New York City needs him. Sure, he has Blond Chameleon and Asian Persuasion backing him up, but Nightbird is the one that does the tough jobs.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust his friends, it’s just that he loves saving people. Helping them. It makes him feel like he’s actually changing something in the world. He’s eliminating injustice, one slow-motion running montage with cape-flapping-sounds at a time.

He really does save the citizens of the large city.

Blaine remembers his first act as Nightbird like the back of his hand. It was definitely risky for someone who had never saved another person before, but he did it: he saved a little boy who had fallen off the platform as a subway came rattling down the tracks.

The boy had looked so in awe of Blaine—no, Nightbird—that ever since then, he’s gone out every night under the pretense of working some late shift at a diner. He knows there’s a risk of Kurt finding out about his alter ego, so he never gives Kurt the name of the made-up diner, but he always leaves his boyfriend around the same time every day. He knows that he should be honest with Kurt or let Sam or Tina take over for a week or two, but the feeling of knowing that some little kid out there in the big city sits up at night waiting for the tiniest glimpse of the great Nightbird is so addicting and exciting that he just can’t stop his acts of heroism.

* * *

Things go to pot as soon as he realizes his cape is ripped. It’s not that he can’t fix it, but the special material he uses is at Kurt’s, tucked somewhere safe for the other boy’s discretion on whether or not to use it in his newest design. No, Blaine can’t have Kurt finding out about Nightbird. So that’s when he plans it: a super secret mission to break into Kurt’s apartment (which really means to use the key Kurt gave him) while Kurt is out and take the fabric before safely returning it, all of it down without Kurt knowing. He realizes though that maybe Sam could it. Blaine could go on a date with Kurt, and Sam would sneak in while the two are out, taking the material and giving it to Blaine back at his own apartment.

When he brings up his genius idea to Sam, however, his best friend looks less than amused. “Blaine, I know I’m not the best guy to give advice on dating or girls … not that Kurt’s a girl,” his words stumble out as a blush appears on his cheeks. Blaine shakes his head and motions for Sam to continue. Sam smiles his thanks before carrying on: “so I don’t know if you should completely trust me on this, but this is a terrible idea. You shouldn’t lie to Kurt like this. You and me both know something will go wrong. It’s best that you just tell him the truth.”

Blaine deflates. “I know, Sam, I really do, but Kurt can’t know.”

“Well, why not? What’s so bad about Kurt knowing?”

There’s a long pause before Blaine shakes his head. “It’s just too dangerous. Kurt can’t know, and he won’t know.” He stands up, grabbing his keys, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall.

He’s halfway out the door when Sam speaks: “I’ll help you.”

Blaine freezes. “What?”

“I’ll help you,” Sam says again, words reluctant. “Look, I know I’ll probably regret this or whatever, but you’re my best friend, in the most heterosexual sense, sorry,” he clears his throat and continues: “so I’ll back you up. But just be honest with Kurt soon, please, Blaine. Kurt’s pretty strong. Maybe stronger than you think.”

Blaine blinks at his friend’s sudden wisdom before nodding, face splitting into a smile. “Thank you so much, Sam, and I’ll … I’ll try to tell Kurt, really.” His smile grows some more before he’s dashing out of Sam’s apartment building, into the streets of good ol’ NYC, heading straight for Kurt’s.

When he arrives, Kurt’s watching old episodes of Project Runway, laughing at one designer who’s complaining about colors. There’s something cooking on the stove, and the curtains are pulled back, and Blaine feels a tug of something akin to domesticity at the sight.

He realizes Kurt’s glasz eyes are on him seconds later, and then that same bright smile is on his face again. “Let’s have a picnic.”

The words are out before he can stop them, and his face twists up in horror. He still isn’t sure about Kurt’s stance on parks, and suggesting a picnic might’ve just lead to downfall, but no, because there’s Kurt, smiling back at him, blush on his cheeks. The taller man sashays over and presses a loving kiss to Blaine’s lips. “Of course.”

Blaine grins and grips Kurt’s arms. “Let’s go.”

Kurt’s smile falters before strengthening once more. “I’ll just pack things now.”

* * *

 

The unknown food was soup.

It was almost warmer than the feeling of Kurt cuddled up against him.

* * *

He almost forgets about Sam until he arrives back at his own living space. His friend is sitting on his couch, messing with the soft fabric. “I got it,” he says after a pause. When he gets up to go, he lays a heavy hand on Blaine’s shoulder. “Just don’t hurt him.”

Even without Sam using his name, Blaine’s stomach sank.

* * *

The second slip up is while he’s on a mission.

It’s been two weeks since he’s fixed his cape, and four weeks since Kurt threatened the ending of their relationship.Blaine is on patrol, searching for any signs of trouble when he sees it: two burly guys cornering a perfectly postured boy. Upon closer inspection, however, he sees that the cornered boy isn’t a boy at all and is in fact Kurt.  
His heart rate turns rapid, and he’s going faster than he’s ever gone. And there he is, trapped between these two huge guys, defenseless aside from what Blaine’s taught him in boxing. One of the guys is backing him into a wall while the other makes sure he can’t escape. Blaine wants to commit homicide. He doesn’t though, and instead focusses on Kurt. When Idiot #1 pulls back Nightbird’s instincts kick in, and suddenly he’s there, holding the lug’s fist in an iron grip, murderous look glinting in his eyes. Kurt is protected by his body, and both Blaine and Nightbird want it to stay that way. They’d both kill and they’d both die for Kurt.

Both of the men look confused at Nightbird’s sudden appearance, and he uses that to his advantage, taking the other jerk by his arm, so he now has both of them in his clutches, and then they’re away from Kurt, one stumbling backwards because Nightbird had thrown him towards the main street, the other turning and running away, tail tucked between his legs, at the sight of his friend being so easily tossed about.

As soon as the idiots are gone, Nightbird turns to Kurt. He’s reaching out an arm before he can stop himself, looking carefully into those bright blue eyes. His gloved hand brushes against the fabric of Kurt’s shirt, and Nightbird quickly retracts it. Kurt’s silent. Nightbird stutters out an apologetic, “I should go,” and he really is about to when Kurt is suddenly gripping his hand. Nightbird turns back around, shocked, and sees an earnest expression.

“Thank you,” Kurt says, “for saving me.”

Nightbird is halfway through a humble, “It’s the right thing to do,” when Kurt interrupts.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you have to do it. So…,” and then he’s staring intensely at Nightbird, and the superhero gulps. He can feel himself start to lean in and is so close, so, so close, but then there’s Kurt’s hand, and a soft smile on his lips. Nightbird stops, a blush rising in his cheeks and neck and probably everywhere, but Kurt just laughs and shakes his head. “I’m sure you’re a great guy, and I really do appreciate what you did, but,” a beautiful smile appears on his face, and his eyes fill with an emotion that both Blaine and Nightbird know to be love, and then Kurt is speaking again, “I have someone, and no superhero can take me away from them.” His eyes drift down to Nightbird’s legs. “No matter how good they look in spandex.”

Nightbird just nods his head aggressively before blushing and stuttering a, “see you around maybe,” before he’s stumbling off into the chilly, NYC streets, mind still cloudy, but eyes searching for anymore danger. Hopefully, Kurt is the last person that needs to be rescued for the night. Blaine is starting to shine through Nightbird’s personality, and it’s never good to have a mix of his normal self and superhero self.

It’s just too much risk.


	2. Chapter 2

They’re back in Kurt’s kitchen, each holding a mug of coffee. Kurt carefully lifts his to his lips. “So you’ll never guess who I ran into the other night.”

Oh yeah. The Nightbird thing.

Blaine sends him a completely false, bemused smile. It’s been four days since the incident, and Blaine is somewhat shocked at how long Kurt’s kept quiet about the whole ordeal. He’s eager to hear Kurt’s take on what happened, so he places his mug on the counter, eyes following the movement, before looking back at Kurt. “Who did you run into?”

There’s a pause, and Kurt’s biting his down on his bottom lip before laughing. “Nightbird! The actual superhero, secret power, spandex and cape Nightbird.” There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he inspects Blaine before he says: “And he tried to kiss me.”

It’s hard to act surprised at that, so instead Blaine haughtily corrects his slouching posture. “Really?”

Kurt rolls his eyes and swats at Blaine’s chest playfully. “No need to be jealous. Told him I was yours,” he leans in closer, lips curling into a sultry smile, “and you’re mine.” He pauses. “Backed off pretty quickly though, so I’m glad to see he understand what respect is.”

Blaine smiles softly and picks up his mug once more, staring into the hot liquid. “Is that all that happened though?”

Silence. Blaine looks up through his lashes to see Kurt hesitating, eyes looking off somewhere to the right before switching to the left. “Pretty much. He saved someone else; I just happened to be nearby.”

Blaine can’t understand why Kurt lied to him. “Bit odd he’d be trying to lip-lock with you if you’re just a passerby.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and when he meets Kurt’s eyes, he knows he’s messed up. “Kurt, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.”

“No, Blaine,” Kurt’s voice is unnaturally steady. “I don’t know it. What has gotten into you lately? First you get all busy, and now you’re acting like a child. Or like no one could ever be interested in me.” He’s not pouting because Kurt Hummel doesn’t pout, A large frown, however, has found itself a home on his face. Blaine had stopped apologizing, but is now staring at Kurt like he just told him Katy Perry died. Kurt sighs. “I understand that I was a bit … rash when I told you to practically quit your job, or else I’d break up with you, but I just don’t know what to do. You had started to get better for maybe a week or two, but then you started drifting away again. I just … I don’t get it, Blaine. Is it something I did? Something I said? Just please tell me.”

Blaine opens his mouth, but no words come out. He closes it and tries again, succeeding this time: “It’s not you. It’s me.” 

Kurt looks ready to murder.

“No, not like that,” Blaine backtracks. “You’re gorgeous, you’re wonderful, you’re beautiful, talented, smart, amazing. Everything good in the world. Really, Kurt,” he persists when the taller man gives him a dull look. “I just mean that it’s not everyday you see someone for the first time, and then they just try to kiss you.” He should stop. Blaine should just close his mouth, deal with Kurt being mad about what he said earlier, before he blurts out that he’s Nightbird, and that he can never stay the night because he’s out saving people. But he doesn’t shut up and rambles on. “I know that I’ve been … distant. But it’s all for good reason! I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s good reason, you might not. And it’s not just the diner thing. I have other things that I have to do. Sometimes Sam gets overwhelmed by schoolwork and needs me to come over to help him. And sometimes Tina needs to rant about a guy or something. I just get busy. It’s not you, seriously. Things just come up.”

“Yeah,” Kurt glares at him, the word biting, “things.”

Blaine instantly deflates. Sam’s words about telling the truth and not hurting him ring like sirens in his head, and then he’s giving away his biggest secret before he can stop himself: “I’m Nightbird.”

Kurt freezes before taking on an unamused expression. “Blaine, do you really have to do this?”

“No, I mean, yes, but, ugh, Kurt, please,” the words stumble out of Blaine’s mouth. “You have to believe me. Four nights ago,” he says, remembering the rescue, “you were cornered by two guys, more likely than not because you’re gay, and then Nightbird shows up, grabs them, and they end up running away. Then he turns, almost grabs your arm, before leaning in. You stop him, and then you tell him you have me, but then you compliment his outfit? His legs? I didn’t realise that until now,” Blaine huffs out a laugh, “you were checking me, wait, him—no, me?—out!”

Despite Blaine’s laugh, there’s a tension that settles over the pair.

Kurt sighs. “I guess I can believe that. Guess,” he repeats pointedly at Blaine’s hopeful look. “But that doesn’t explain why you disappear practically every night.”

Blaine’s quick to answer: “I have a slight obsession, a small addiction, to saving people. The way someone looks at you after you rescue them … it’s amazing, Kurt.”

That makes Kurt hesitate. “Did I look at you like that? When you saved me, that is.”

“Um,” Blaine can’t say. “Maybe?” he tries. “I’d say yes, but at the same time, you just looked really appreciative. But you don’t exactly wear your heart on your sleeve.” That draws a smile out of Kurt. “Also thanks for, you know, when you told him about me. That made me really happy.”

The corners of Kurt’s lips curl upwards again, but then a look of confusion cross his face. “Wait, so are you the same person or not?”

Blaine shrugs. “Yes and no. I mean, essentially, yes, we are, but at the same time, when I go out at night to rescue people or look for danger, it’s less  _ Blaine _ , who has his own life and a loving and perfect boyfriend and friends and parents, and more Nightbird, who has his own life and fans. I can’t let bias get through or anything, you know?”

“Not really,” Kurt answers honestly, “but I can sort of understand.” He places a warm hand on Blaine’s arm, giving his bicep a small, comforting squeeze. “Thanks for being honest, even if it took two almost-demolitions of our relationship to get there. I just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me in the first place.”

“It’s dangerous,” Blaine responds immediately. “You can’t go anywhere with Nightbird, neither of us can risk, much less handle, you getting hurt because of us. It was hard saving you that night because I just wanted to murder those guys. I can’t afford letting, well, me mix with Nightbird. Can’t have too many opinions, remember?”

Kurt nods. “I can sort of see where you’re coming from, but, Blaine, I’m a big boy. I can protect myself. I’m not saying that I’m going to follow you during your superhero duties or whatever, but I’ll be here, ready to patch you up if needed. Hopefully you won’t need to be, but I’ll be here.”

A grin blossoms on Blaine’s face, and he’s pulling Kurt into his arms before he can stop himself. Kurt’s own arm is at an awkward angle in between them from where it had rested on Blaine’s. It’s squished between them, and Blaine takes a careful step back to allow Kurt to readjust it before drawing his boyfriend back in. “Thank you so much, Kurt. I love you,” he presses a kiss to Kurt’s cheek, and then he’s repeating the words while peppering the other’s face with kisses. “I love you so much.”

Kurt laughs and shoves him away. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I,” Blaine falters before nodding, “understand. Do you want me to go?”

A laugh waterfalls from Kurt’s lips again. “God, no. You haven’t even finished your coffee.”

Blaine wrinkles his nose and runs his fingers across the side of the mug. “It’s cold now.”

“Then we’ll heat it up,” Kurt says, a gorgeous smile on his face, “all the more reason to stay.”

“I never said  _ I  _ wanted to leave,” Blaine whispers before pulling Kurt in for a kiss again. “Forget the coffee. Let’s be juvenile.”

Kurt rolls his eyes as he pulls away. “Juvenile? We’re only twenty, Blaine.”

“Only twenty for so long,” Blaine responds, and then he’s humming some catchy song and spinning Kurt around for an impromptu dance in their tiny kitchen, whisking him out into the living room where it’s a bit more spacious. Kurt’s laughing, his eyes bright and so vivid, and Blaine can feel himself falling in love again.

Maybe there will be more major consequences for telling Kurt about his Nightbird alter ego, but for now, he’s perfectly content where he is, there with Kurt in their little New York City home, the only sound being Kurt’s laughter, Blaine’s humming, and the scraping of their feet on the floor.


End file.
